Monday, January 30, 2012

The Tuesday Buildup--Introducting Harvest Moon Rising

Woohoo! New stuff! Yes, I'm wired on caffeine, and probably causing tons of damage to my liver with my Diet Coke addiction. YOU try working 5 fifty-plus hour work weeks in a row and see how dependent you become on caffeine. But I digress.

Below is the raw, unedited opening for Harvest Moon Rising. Feedback is more than welcome. Otherwise--enjoy!

I hung up the phone, leaning against the
counter when my knees sagged.
Before I could tell him not to worry, Mike was through the screen door, picking
me up and carrying me into the living room. He eased the pair of us down onto
the sofa, cradling me with all the care of a china doll.

“Maybe if
you’d stop treating me like glass, I’d be able to.” Wiggling off his lap, I
shoved my hands in the pockets of my robe, pacing to the end of the room. “He’s
some sort of special doctor, a reproductive specialist. It’s the only kind of
work he does, and he’s pretty good at it, at least according to Michele.”

“A
reproductive specialist.” Mike scratched the back of his neck, brow furrowing
in concentration. “Like the kind of guy who does in vitro fertilization and
what not?”

“Yeah, he
probably does stuff like that. But he can also work around scar tissue. Like
the kind Doc sad I have.” I looked out the window, stared at the treeline. From
this distance, the low grave wasn’t visible. But I’d never forget it was there.
“There’s a chance to fix things.”

“Cari.” He
closed his mouth and shook his head. “You know you can’t do this.”

“I can
try.” Turning back around, I studied him. Some sixth sense told me to back
down, to listen to him, to follow the voice of reason. But Michele’s voice
still rang in my ear, her absolute faith in this man none of us had ever met. A
lifetime of believing her didn’t die in a week. “We can try, Mike.”

“You’re
not doing this, Cari.” He stood, crossing his arms, his eyes flickering from
green to brown and back again. “That’s final.”